


30 Day Writing Challenge

by Avid_Rdr



Category: random - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M, Love, Oneshot, Romance, Slice of Life, Writing, bangtan - Freeform, bts - Freeform, challenge, reader - Freeform, writing challenge, 방탄소년단
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-08-02 20:08:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16311887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avid_Rdr/pseuds/Avid_Rdr
Summary: This is my first attempt at a 30 Day Writing Challenge. There is a 1,000 word limit per prompt. Enjoy watching me struggle to be brief.





	1. Things We Carry

Hoseok sat down on the bus in the only available seat near the aisle. The dark clouds in the sky outside only mirrored the dark turmoil that had taken up residence in his heart. His fingers twirled a thin gold ring, deftly interchanging it between his slender fingers.

 

He wasn't sure why he kept it. It only made him think back to times that were not the best. A time when his most serious transgressions became known. A time when he lost something meaningful to himself because of something as simple as his pride.

 

Perhaps that's why he kept it. A solemn reminder to never repeat history.

 

His face formed into a deep scowl as he stared down at the ring held lightly between his thumb and first finger. A nudge to his elbow startled him from his thoughts, causing him to look over into the face of his elderly travel companion.

 

"How long has it been?"

 

"Since...?"

 

"The divorce."

 

Hoseok stared at the man in disbelief. "How did you know I was divorced?"

 

The elderly man smiled sadly and looked down at the ring. "The fade line is still on your finger. You're not crying, so I can safely assume she's alive. You also look deeply hurt and angry. That only means betrayal or divorce."

 

The elder shrugged his shoulders and lowered them. "Want to talk about it?"

 

"Not really," Hoseok sighed.

 

"Was it you or her?"

 

"Pardon?"

 

"Which one of you messed up?"

 

A wry laugh rumbled in Hoseok's chest as he shook his head softly. "Me," he whispered.

 

"How bad?"

 

"Bad enough that I couldn't bring myself to even look her in the eye after she found out. It was only one time. I just couldn't bear to look into her eyes and see all the pain I caused."

 

"So she gave you an ultimatum?" The older man tilted his head a bit and focused on the troubled man beside him.

 

"No. I didn't let her. I took myself out of the equation. She deserves better." Hoseok had a thin, tight smile on his lips.

 

"Did she say that?"

 

"Not exactly. She told me we could work things out, that we could move past it. I just felt such guilt from what I had done and anger at myself for betraying the one good thing I had in my life. She didn't deserve to be saddled with someone who had basically acted like she never existed for one night."

 

"Mmm. Yes, I would say you messed up. But she wanted to work it out with you?"

 

"Yeah. I felt pathetic. I still can't believe I did something like cheat on my wife. I always thought I was a better man than that, you know? Thought I could handle everything life threw at me and always stay on the right side of it. Thought I could resist the temptations because my wife was perfection. Beautiful, sweet, loving, thoughtful, never let me get down and discouraged, always tried to lift me up. But I did that to her. I just..." His voice trailed off into a whisper as the bus came to a halt at a stop on a corner.

 

The older man looked at the stop and sighed. "You know what your problem is, son? A bad case of good, old fashioned pride. You had too much of it, which is how you messed up to begin with. But now your pride is ruining your life even more."

 

"Yeah," Hoseok mumbled.

 

"Have you apologized to her?"

 

"I said I was sorry as I left. That was a few months ago."

 

"What's she doing now?"

 

"Same thing. We have mutual acquaintances. They said she's okay. Not great, just okay."

 

"How does that make you feel?"

 

"Me? Pretty awful. I want to make everything better for her, but I just can't go back to her with all this..." Hoseok waved his hands in the air a little, desperately searching for a word.

 

"Baggage?"

 

Hoseok's hands dropped to his lap and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, baggage."

 

"Son, you've been carrying around this baggage for a few months. It's not too late. Some people carry it around for a lifetime. Don't be one of those people. Swallow your blasted pride. Go back to her. Ask forgiveness. Make another vow. Keep it this time. Don't waste any more time letting pride keep you from your happiness."

 

"I can't be sure she'd even take me back," mumbled Hoseok, looking back down at the ring.

 

The older man's phone rang in his pocket and he pulled it out, answering it. "Yes, dear? Ah, yes, I missed my stop again. No, I'll get a taxi. Love you too."

 

"Excuse me for that."

 

"You missed your stop?"

 

"Ah, well, yes..." The old man chuckled and shrugged. "It happens."

 

"Was that your wife?" Hoseok asked.

 

"Mm. I think you and I had a divine appointment to be seat buddies, young man. See, fifty-three years ago I made the same mistake you did. I let pride keep me away. But I finally manned up and that's what she was waiting for. She took me back, no questions asked. Been together ever since."

 

Hoseok's eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

 

"I'm on this bus every Friday afternoon. Next Friday, I expect a different story from you," smiled the old man. "Now, if you'll excuse me, if I don't get off at this stop, I'll never get home tonight."

 

Hoseok watched the man exit the bus and he looked back down at the ring. He slowly slid it back onto his finger and waited for his stop. Once he arrived, he got off the bus and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

 

The screen lit up the darkness around him and he scrolled to the one contact he had on speed dial. He hit the button and put the phone up to his ear.

 

"Hey...can I come over? I want to talk."

 

* * *

995 words.


	2. An Open Door

The hallway was dimly lit, his sneakers squeaking lightly on the shiny, waxed floor. He passed by each door, turning the knobs and making sure the residents inside were asleep. He placed a check mark on the list on his clipboard next to each name.

 

He clicked the pen open and shut as he came to door 1230. It was closed, and even though he hadn't tried the knob yet, he knew it was most likely locked tight. He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and stared down at the light peeking from under the door.

 

A shuffle next to him startled him slightly and he looked over to see a young man in pajamas and a black hoodie standing beside him, also staring at the door. The young man held up a white board.

 

_Why do you stand here every night? You know he's not coming out._

_"_ Because, Jungkook, I know that he's hiding from something." Yoongi placed one hand on the door and tapped his finger lightly.

 

"Taehyung, sleep well," he said against the door. Taking a step back he looked over at Jungkook and frowned. "I thought you were in bed asleep?"

 

The young aphasia patient, who at one time, refused to even try to speak to people, with his voice or otherwise, smirked and shrugged.

 

"You're too sneaky for your own good. Get to bed now," grinned Yoongi, shaking his head as the young man shuffled down the hall to a room a few doors away. Looking back at the door beside him, Yoongi frowned and clicked the pen top.

 

It had been six months since Yoongi had transferred to the Blue Side Halfway House. Mental patients cleared for a return home by a doctor were sent here till they themselves were confident they could return to society and be a fully functional citizen.

 

It was a good place. Good accommodations, good food, great staff, and a fantastic turnout rate. Except for one patient who had been here for a little over a year.

 

Kim Taehyung.

 

He had been diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. His attacks had gotten so bad at one point, that he blocked an entire lane of traffic for over three hours because he couldn't let go of the steering wheel due to a severe and sudden panic attack. Different medications were tried but Taehyung was in a very dark place.

 

After several attempts to take his own life, his family sought professional help in an effort to get him better. 

 

That was six years ago.

 

Five years after he began treatment at a hospital nearby, a doctor decided Kim Taehyung was stable and sound enough to rejoin society as a functioning adult. And he was. But once he reached Blue Side, he locked himself in the room and never opened it except for meals.

 

Consultations happened through notes passed under the door or low mumbles through a minuscule crack. Janitors were never allowed in, but left cleaning products by the door, thankfully seeing them used and returned to their place the next morning.

 

Yoongi scowled at his checklist, the one box empty that he could never check off each night. Sometimes he wondered if the doctors had not just grown tired of Taehyung's problems and shoved him to Blue Side just to help their numbers.

 

Still, regardless of how he came here, Yoongi vowed to get Taehyung to one day open his door.

 

* * *

 

Night after night, Yoongi returned to door number 1230. Every night's response was the same.

 

Nothing.

 

However, tonight Yoongi was determined to try something different. He slid down the door and sat with his back against it. He raised his knees and rested his arms on them, the pen clicking in his fingers. In a low voice, he began simply giving the mundane details of his day.

 

"I am just not a daytime person. You may not know that, but it's why I work the night shift. I don't sleep well." Yoongi paused, hearing shuffling on the other side of the door. His eyes darted back and forth as he pondered whether to stop or go on.

 

He should go on. "Winston, down in 1204, he's going home tomorrow. You should come to his party. I think Dr. Park is bringing cake."

 

A small white paper shot out from under the door.

 

" _Stop clicking that infernal pen. Also, I don't sleep either."_

Yoongi's eyes bugged and he snatched the paper up, a grin spreading on his face. "Sorry about the pen. It's a bad habit."  He wanted to ask Taehyung if he could come in, maybe talk a while, but he didn't want to press his luck. This was the first response he had ever seen from the man. Now ah was he going to ruin it with impatience.

 

Yoongi would wear him down, like water on a rock. With a small nod, he jumped to his feet. "Goodnight, Taehyung," he said to the wooden door. He smiled as the light clicked off and the bed springs squeaked.

 

He raised his pen and pressed his thumb on the top out of habit, but froze and rushed away from the door with a soft giggle before letting it go.

 

* * *

Night after night Yoongi repeated his ritual. Sitting at Taehyung's tightly locked door and rambling about nothing in particular.

 

More notes began to float under the door, some with one word statements and others with full sentences. Some with questions and some with just a frowning face.

 

But Yoongi didn't care. He felt he was making headway. If all went well, Taehyung might be closer to actually going home.

 

But every night the door was closed. Shut and locked. Weeks went by and nothing changed. No voice was heard, no face seen, just notes passed under the small at the bottom of the door.

 

Yoongi learned a lot through those notes. Taehyung didn't like repetitive noises, he preferred books about art, and he was a lover of jazz. His hair was brown and he came from a small countryside town outside of Daegu. He was the oldest in his family and he hadn't seen any of them since he came to Blue Side. After a few times of rejection, his family simply gave up and decided to give him the space he apparently needed.

 

"I'm sure they miss you," said Yoongi over his shoulder.

 

" _I miss them more."_

Yoongi held the note up and his heart felt heavy. "You can see them, you know, if you just let them come in when they visit."

 

Silence continued for about three minutes till another note shot under the door.

 

" _I'm not ready. :("_

_"_ I think you're more ready than you give yourself credit for."

 

Another note.

 

" _I'm going to bed. Please bring more paper tomorrow. I'm about out. Also, stop clicking your pen."_

Yoongi didn't even realize he had been clicking it. He saw the light under the door go off and heard the bed springs creak again. Taehyung was shutting him out. He probably shouldn't have brought up Taehyung's family.

 

With a sigh, Yoongi stood and started to walk away, but hesitated and turned, resting his forehead against the door. "Taehyung, please, don't shut me out. I really am concerned for you. If you're not ready to go home, that's fine. Just...let someone in, okay?"

 

Yoongi patted the door gently a few times before walking away from door 1230.

 

* * *

 

The next night, Yoongi began his rounds, a new black capped pen in his hand. He began at the end fo the hall and slowly worked his way down, whispering friendly goodnights to the residents and clicking off lights for them.

 

He startled when Jungkook approached him quickly, a worried look on his face. "Hm? Jungkook? What is it? Is something wrong?"

 

The young man scribbled something quickly on his board and shoved it in Yoongi's face.

 

" _Door 1230!"_

Yoongi backed up from the invasive board and stared at both Jungkook and the words again. "What about it?"

 

Jungkook grabbed his arm and drug him down the hallway, Yoongi stumbling a bit as he was dragged.

 

"Jungkook, is this really nece-" Yoongi froze as Jungkook halted in front of door 1230. His eyes blinked a few times and he looked at Jungkook who also looked at him.

 

The door was open.

 

Only a few inches.

 

But it was open.

 

Yoongi took a few moments to process this impossible occurrence. He felt a nudge next to him as Jungkook pushed him forward a bit.

 

"I'm going," he muttered, glaring at the young man. He raised his hand and knocked on the door softly, just two times.

 

A shuffle was heard and suddenly a chocolate-brown eye peered out from the small space.

 

Yoongi found himself staring, speechless because he was so shocked. "T-Taehyung? It's me, Yoongi. Ah... and this, this is-" he fumbled behind him to grab Jungkook's arm, feeling more supported by his presence.

 

"J-J-Jungk-k-kook," stammered Jungkook.

 

Two surprises in one night was two more than Yoongi was mentally prepared for.  Before he could acknowledge Jungkook's surprise vocalizations, Taehyung's voice came out of the space.

 

"I know you. I've seen you through the peephole. You've been lurking in front of my door for months." Taehyung glared softly at the younger man, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

 

Yoongi tilted his head and sucked some air between his teeth at the short exchange. "Jungkook, we will talk about this development with you later. Get to bed now," he smiled stiffly, jerking his head towards the direction of Jungkook's room.

 

Jungkook smiled widely as he scribbled something on his board again.

 

"I want to be your friend. Can I come back tomorrow?"

 

Taehyung read the board and didn't respond right away, but Jungkook still stood there smiling broadly.

 

"Only if you talk. The squeaking of your marker bugs me," grumbled Taehyung.

 

Jungkook nodded and skipped away to his room.

 

Yoongi looked back at Taehyung and folded his arms across his chest. "May I come in?"

 

Taehyung looked the shorter man over a few times before he smiled shyly and nodded.

 

"The door's open," he said, stepping back.

 

Yoongi felt pride well up in his chest. This door had always been locked, no matter who tried to enter it.

 

Tonight was a small victory for Min Yoongi, but a large one for Kim Taehyung.

 

In one night, he had gone from a locked, firmly shut door and no life outside of it, to an open door, a potential new friendship, and perhaps healing.

 

Yoongi's hand brushed the door as he walked past it and into the room no one had seen for over a year.

 

He started to close the door behind him then thought better of it.

 

Tonight only, this door would stay open just a crack, as a symbol of progress.

 

Taehyung was like that door.

 

Once shut, locked away in himself.

 

But now, even if just a crack, Taehyung had opened.

 

* * *

1,848 words.

 

_But Author! That's more than 1,000 words! You had a limit!_

_Yes, but my co-challenger was late with her post yesterday so I figure_

_I can fudge some rules today. ;) So please, let my long-winded self live._


	3. Faces on the Street

She sat at her office window, one floor up from the ground floor, watching the sea of people moving past her building. Her pencil tapped against the desk as she watched them. Moving along together like a mighty ocean.

 

Resting her chin on her hand, she sighed as the cuckoo clock on the wall struck five p.m. She frowned out the window trying to distinguish just one face. One face that stood out from the crowd.

 

The crowd of people, some staring at their phones, some focused on the path ahead of them, all moved past her building at quick speeds, none wanting to linger in one place for too long.

 

Except him.

 

Every day at five o'clock sharp, one face caught her eye. One that seemed different from the rest. Every day he sat on the bench across the street, hands tucked under his thighs, hope-filled eyes scanning the faces that passed him. A navy coat and a gray backpack were always his only companions. His brown hair fluffy, but always neatly trimmed. He looked like a decent fellow.

 

Every day she watched him stay there for one hour, scanning faces, watching the people. Her eyes narrowed as she thought about him, her head slightly tilting to one side. What was his story? What was the thing he always looked for?

 

Tap, tap, tap. Her pencil hit the desk in a light rhythm. She began scratching it across the off-white paper laying on her desk. Her eyes darted between the man and her paper.

 

Twenty minutes later she stretched in her desk chair, raising her arms up over her head. She rose from her seat and took the drawing over to a cork board, pinning it there, along with a few dozen others. Every day she tried to capture something different about him. But it always seemed the same.

 

Wishful watching.

 

Her lips twitched as she stared at the sketch. Looking at the clock, she promptly grabbed her coat and bag.

 

Today she would approach him.

 

She stood across the street from the bench, watching him search the passing faces. Hesitation and anxiousness about his response froze her feet to the concrete.

 

Should she ruin something because he would know he was being watched?

 

It was a risk worth taking.

 

As the light turned red, the walk sign lighting up in a dull blue, she crossed the street. Dodging a few people here and there, she slowly came to stand next to the bench. She watched him for just a moment as his eyes sought to meet the eyes of the passerby's.

 

No one gave him the time of day.

 

The seat next to him was empty, as it always was.  Steeling her courage, she sat down next to him, her eyes never quite leaving his face.

 

Glancing at her, he smiled and went back to studying the people.

 

His smile was sweet, heartwarming even though it came from a stranger.  It gave her the last little bit of bravery she needed to speak.

 

"Excuse me, but may I ask you something?"

 

He slowly looked over at her and shrugged. "Sure."

 

"Why do you sit here every day?" She felt her palms grow clammy as she clasped them tightly in her lap.

 

"How did you know I'm here every day?"

 

Pointing to her office window, she shrugged. "I work right where that window is. You come here every day at five o'clock and stay till six. You never speak to anyone, and no one ever speaks to you. It's all very mysterious to me."

 

He grinned and raised his eyebrows. "I feel as though I've been stalked."

 

She blushed and ducked her head. "Sorry, but my desk faces the window. I can't help but notice you," she said softly.

 

"Why should I tell you?" He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest.

 

She pondered a moment and then shrugged. "You don't have to. But today I finally worked up the courage to come over here and speak to you. I realize you don't know me, so I won't be offended if you tell me to bug off."

 

He grinned and looked away, his eyes darting up to more faces walking by. "What's your name?"

 

"Rae," she said proudly.

 

"Nice to meet you, Rae. This will sound funny, but my name is Tae." He giggled as he said the two rhyming names together a few times.

 

He clapped his hands together lightly and then dropped them into his lap, shifting his position a bit. "As a small boy, my mother and I always took the six o'clock 613 bus home. We always came early because of her work schedule. We sat on this very bench and waited together. Every day. And then one day when I was five years old, she told me to wait right here on this bench, promising she would return in a few moments."

 

Rae saw where this was going. "Oh," she said softly. "You don't have to tell me anything else."

 

"But I haven't explained why I wait here. It's okay, really." He smiled and took a deep breath. "I waited here for a long time, until someone from CPS came. I never saw her again. But as soon as I was old enough I decided I would come wait here every day to see if she comes back."

 

"And...?"

 

"Nothing. I don't even know if she's alive or if I even remember her face properly. No info on her at all. But at least I tried, right?" He glanced down at his watch. "Six. Time to go. Nice meeting you, Rae!" He waved and left.

 

The next day, he was back, and this time, he looked up from the sea of faces to the window where Rae sat, lazily doodling as she waited for quitting time. He raised his arm and waved at her, smiling widely.

 

Rae grinned and waved back, watching as he returned to searching faces, never losing hope in finding the one face he was searching for.

 

_* * *_

_1,010 words._

( _I did it again.)_


	4. Day Four - "Mirror"

AThe morning sun was warming up as she walked quietly along the beach. Waves washing up various trinkets of the sea, leaving them carelessly on the beach for others to find.

 

She breathed in the warm salty air and smiled. Walking along the ocean's edge was her favorite thing to do. The sea was her friend, her comforter at night when she was all alone.

 

She plodded along, feeling the wet sand firm under her feet. A glint of something caught her eye from a pile of seaweed. With piqued curiosity she walked towards it, stooping down to brush away the damp seaweed when she reached it.

 

A gilded mirror slightly bigger than her hand appeared from under the seaweed. Brushing off the dirt and the sand, she held it up and looked it over. Seeing no markings whatsoever, she smiled at her reflection, proud of herself for finding such a treasure. It would bring a good price at the market, no doubt.

 

"Hello?"

 

The girl startled as another face soon replaced her own in the glass. Barely able to keep from dropping the mirror, she stared into the handsome face that slowly appeared before her.

 

"Hello! Thank God someone found me!" The voice in the mirror was deep, soothing and warm.

 

The girl stared, not sure if she should be following after her rampant curiosity at this point. "H-hello?"

 

"You are a saint! Where did you find me?" The young man in the mirror smiled sweetly and leaned closer to the front. His eyes were friendly and his smile sincere. She found herself smiling in return.

 

"On this beach, under some seaweed." She held the mirror closer to her and smiled at the face. "How did you in there," she said, pointing at the glass.

 

"It's a boring story. I'm sure you don't have time for it. But can I ask you if you'll be my new friend? It's very lonely in here." He frowned and it touched the girl's heart.

 

What could it hurt to befriend a man who lived in a mirror? He couldn't hurt her. He couldn't even touch her. She smiled gently and nodded. "Surely I can be your friend. What is your name?"

 

"Jin! You?" He raised his eyebrows and looked at her curiously.

 

"Wren."

 

"Like the bird?"

 

"I think so. I don't really know why I'm named that."

 

"Your mother never explained it to you?"

 

The girl's countenance fell a bit. "I'm alone like you."

 

Jin smiled softly and nodded. "It's okay, Wren. I'll be your friend. Can you take me with you?"

 

"No, I'm afraid I cannot. You'll be stolen from me." She slid her finger along the gilded edge and smiled sadly. "But I will come here and visit you every day! I'll put you somewhere shady where the sun won't beat down on you."

 

"Would you? I really appreciate that. I'll look forward to your visits!"

 

Wren giggled and blushed. The face in the mirror was handsome and made butterflies take flight in her stomach. Too bad he wasn't a real person.

 

Days passed and Wren was faithful to her visits with Jin. They laughed and talked about everything from the grumpy butcher at the market who never spared a morsel, to the sweet lady at the baker's who saved every crumb she could for the less fortunate.

 

One day, Wren had a question that she had delayed in asking for fear of sounding rude or insensitive. She was unable to contain it any longer and so she asked. "Jin? Why don't you come out of the mirror? Can't you come out?"

 

Jin shook his head and frowned. "No, I'm cursed to stay in this mirror forever."

 

"But why?"

 

"Because long ago, I fell in love with myself. As punishment, I was pulled into the mirror. But that's a story for another day."

 

"I can't imagine loving myself like that."

 

Jin smiled and blocked his own face from view, allowing Wren to only see herself. "You're a beautiful young lady, Wren. Can't you see that?"

 

Wren looked at her reflection and shook her head. "No."

 

"I don't just see your circumstances when I look at you, Wren, I see your true beauty deep down inside." Jin's voice held a smile and a soothing tone that made Wren relax and study her reflection a bit more.

 

"I wish I could see myself like that," she whispered.

 

"You can! Just look closely. You'll see it." 

 

Wren looked closer and as she did, her features became more evident to her. Her eyes softer, her lips more full, her nose narrower. Her face seemed to morph into something of such great beauty that she found it hard to look away.  Turning her face this way and that, she ran a slender finger down her cheek, feeling the smoothness reflected in the mirror.

 

"Is this how you see me, Jin?"

 

"It is," he hummed softly. "You're breathtaking."

 

"Can I really be this beautiful? Is it possible?"

 

"Definitely." Jin's face reappeared and Wren's reflection faded away.

 

"How?" Wren anxiously searched Jin's expression for clues as to how she could become that beautiful girl she saw in the mirror.

 

"Stay sweet, love others, and live a good life, Wren. That's how you become beautiful. Stay away from the ugly things in the world. Don't fall into the traps of the ones who want to change you."

 

Wren nodded. "I wish you were real, Jin. I wish I could touch you, hold your hand, just be near you. I know it's silly."

 

"No, it's not." He reached a hand and pressed it against the other side of the glass, his eyes dark and warm. "I want to touch you too. Will you do something for me?" His voice wavered a bit and he had tears pooling in his eyes.

 

"Anything!"

 

"Place your hand on mine. I want to imagine it. To pretend I can feel your touch." His voice cracked and Wren's heart broke.

 

She reached her hand out and touched his, tears in her own eyes at the luck and joy she had of meeting someone so beautiful inside and out. It felt like she was really touching him, the warmth fo his hand coming through the glass.

 

Before she knew it, a hand was indeed holding hers, tugging it forward gently and as she looked into Jin's eyes she felt as if she was drowning in their warm depths. Suddenly, a harsh jerk moved her forward. Her cry of surprise was soon muffled as the mirror dropped to the sand.

 

Brushing himself off, Jin stood straight and stretched his arms towards the sky, smiling his face up at the warm sun. His boots stamped the ground and he breathed in deeply, taking in the fresh salty sea air he had missed for so long.

 

After a few moments he gazed down at the girl frantically beating against the inside of the mirror, a look of horror behind her eyes and tears running down her cheeks.

 

"Sorry, Princess," he smiled, pecking at the glass softly before picking up the mirror and with a mighty heave, he tossed it far out into the sea.

 

Brushing his hands off on his pants, he took a deep breath and set off towards the town in the distance. His stomach growled as he patted it firmly. "Yes, its time for something to eat. It's been too long."

 

* * *

_1,237 words._

( _I really did it this time.)_


	5. Day Five - This Road

"In three hundred feet turn left."

 

"Turn left??" Namjoon squinted his eyes at his phone, studying the outdated map the GPS was apparently following.

 

"There is no left!" cried Taehyung in frustration. He gripped the steering wheel and clenched his teeth.

 

"It says there is," muttered Namjoon, eyes locked on his brilliantly lit phone screen.

 

"Okay, first of all, hyung, get your nose out of your phone. Secondly, look! There's no way to turn left!"

 

"Your destination is on the right. You have arrived."

 

Taehyung angrily grabbed the phone from Namjoon's hand, throwing it out the window.

 

"Yah! I'm still paying on that!" Namjoon stared in disbelief.

 

"Were. Now, let's stop and think. We were headed back to the campground the way we came and I was fairly certain there was a small convenience store on the corner. Why can't we find it?"

 

"I still can't believe you just chucked my phone out the window. You're paying me for that when this is all over." Namjoon slunk back into his seat and sulked.

 

"Yeah, I will. Now help me look.  The sun is setting and it will be harder to distinguish the landmarks." Taehyung leaned forward and scanned the roadsides intently. "It's gotta be here somewhere."

 

Soon, the road dead-ended into a T. Taehyung slumped back against the seat, eyes wide with confusion. "Which way do we go?"

 

"Get your phone out. The GPS might help."  Namjoon began fishing around in Taehyung's bag.

 

"Hyung, the service out here is terrible. That's why your GPS wasn't working!" Taehyung sighed and groaned, banging a hand lightly against the wheel.

 

"Okay, let's just...let's just stop and take a deep breath. Which way looks like the best way?" Namjoon looked left and right.

 

"I say that one, to your right." Taehyung looked at the road, recently paved and friendly looking. The one to is left was still a dirt road, trees leaning treacherously over the path. He wasn't even sure where they were at this point, Namjoon's janky GPS having led them completely off course long ago.

 

"I don't think the campground was in that direction though," mumbled Namjoon, looking back and forth.

 

"I don't even know what direction it was to start with," sighed Taehyung, rubbing his eyes.

 

"Okay, we are two adult men. We can find our way back to the campground. We just need to calm down." Namjoon located Taehyung's phone and clicked on the screen. Service was sketchy at best and only one bar showed in the upper left-hand corner. Still, he had to try something. "Call Hoseok."

 

Taehyung shook his head in doubt, knowing this would not work but humoring is friend anyway. He put in his passcode and brought up Hoseok's number, quickly pressing the dial button. The phone rang along with some static, but Hoseok did answer.

 

"Oh thank goodness! Hyung, we're lost!"

 

"Lost?! How? Where are you?"

 

"We...we don't know."

 

"What road are you on? What places are nearby? Any landmarks? We're starving! You guys have all the food!" Hoseok sounded "hangry" and Taehyung was mildly glad he couldn't be throttled by the man right now.

 

"There's a small farm ahead of us. Ah...we're facing a fence.  It's a field on the other side."

 

"Okay, well, that's unhelpful. You could be anywhere. Wait! I think Yoongi-hyung put tracking apps on all our phones. Hold on, let me pull it up."

 

"What?! Why didn't I know about that? When did he do that?"

 

"Do what?" Namjoon pushed his now unnecessary sunglasses up on his head.

 

"Yoongi put trackers on our phones??"

 

"Oh. Yeah. He told me about that."

 

"You didn't tell me? Any of us?"

 

"I sent out a group text," shrugged Namjoon.

 

"I swear..." Taehyung held a hand across his face. He was tired and hungry and ready to go to bed, even if that meant a sleeping bag on some hard ground somewhere. The filming staff had left for the day and the boys had been left to their own devices for the evening and night times. As usual, it had ended disastrously.

 

"Oh my word, how did you guys get way over there?!? Just, okay... I think I have this figured out... I need you to turn-"

 

"Turn where? Left? Right? Hyung!" A dropped call signal was all Taehyung heard on the other end of the call. Looking down at his phone it mockingly read, "No Service" at the top.

 

With a growl he flung the phone to the backseat and huffed out a sigh. Namjoon looked at him and waited for directions.

 

"What did he say?"

 

"The call dropped. We need to make an executive decision. Now."

 

Namjoon could see Taehyung becoming more and more frustrated. He had not had a good day during filming, consistently messing up his part of the games and falling quite a bit during the sports parts. Namjoon could understand why he was short-tempered right now.

 

"Ah, let's go..."

 

Taehyung huffed and spun the wheel to the right, the car speeding up as he hit the pedal. The evening shadows didn't make any of this easier as the two idols sped down an American country backroad in their rental car.

 

The paved road did not last for long, dropping off onto gravel and dirt a few miles in. Taehyung and Namjoon collectively groaned as the car bumped and jostled them, causing Namjoon to hold on for dear life in places.

 

Then it happened.

 

The front left tire hit a rock just so and popped.

 

An indicator light in the car and increased jostling alerted them to the problem. Taehyung took a deep breath and pulled onto a small shoulder of the road that led into the field. He threw the gear into park and leaned his head against the back of the seat.

 

"You have to be kidding me."

 

Namjoon looked around and tried to control his own disappointment. This day had been one thing after another and now this and no cell service. "Are you hungry?" he asked Taehyung after a few moments.

 

Taehyung was frustrated beyond belief. Being in a foreign country, much less driving in one was incredibly stressful. Becoming lost and having a popped tire didn't help matters at all.

 

Namjoon held out some snacks from the groceries they had purchased earlier. "Here. Let's eat something and try to think of what to do." He looked around and saw no houses anywhere nearby. Just fields. For miles.

 

The sun set quickly and the darkness quickly engulfed the car.

 

Taehyung turned and fished through the bags in the backseat. Withdrawing two cans of soda, he opened his door and encouraged Namjoon to follow him. "I need to stretch my legs," he mumbled, stand up from the car. He groaned and stretched, popping the top to his soda as he looked around the thick darkness.

 

"We can't just sit here, Tae. We need to walk to somewhere. The guys will worry and-"

 

Taehyung had stopped and looked up at the sky. Stars looked like sparkling diamonds strewn about the black, velvety sky. Stars he had never seen before because of living in the big city of Seoul with its sleeplessness and bright lights. "Hyung," he whispered, nudging Namjoon with his elbow.

 

"Hm?" Namjoon followed Taehyung's line of sight and looked upwards, gasping in surprise. It was beautiful.

 

Taehyung climbed up on the trunk of the car and stretched himself against the back window, slurping his soda and admiring the view. They would never have seen this at the camp. Night lights and camera lighting would be set up everywhere, blocking out the creation above them.

 

Namjoon slid up next to him and made himself comfortable, his legs dangling off the trunk lid a bit. He wiggled his feet back and forth as his eyes scanned the sky above. "Isn't it amazing, Tae?"

 

"Mm. I used to stare up at the stars as a kid. It was calming to me to see all the lights everywhere because it was so dark where I grew up. But after moving to Seoul, I forgot about my little friends up there. Look at them twinkle! Reminds me of the ARMY bombs during the concerts."

 

Namjoon chuckled, the frustration of the last two hours melting from his shoulders. "Yeah, it does. But we don't have that many fans."

 

Taehyung hummed in agreement and nodded his head. "True, but maybe someday?"

 

"Sure," laughed Namjoon softly. "It's good to dream."

 

"I haven't lost my dream," said Taehyung matter-of-factly.  "I still want to be the greatest singer and dancer...I want to make people smile and make them happy."

 

Namjoon patted his friend's shoulder and sipped his soda. "Me too, Tae. I just want to make music people can relate to and find comfort in, you know? I can't imagine doing that with anyone else but the rest of you guys."

 

Taehyung smiled softly, his shoulders finally looking relaxed and at ease. "Me either. You guys are the family I didn't know I could ever have. I'm lucky to be where I am."

 

"Even though it's the middle of nowhere America?" Namjoon smirked as Taehyung dropped his head, giggling and nodding.

 

"Yeah, hyung, even if it's in the middle of nowhere. I can't think fo anyone I'd rather be stuck here with than one of my bandmates.  Especially you." He nudge Namjoon gently and chugged down his soda.

 

Just then, Taehyung's phone began to ring and he scrambled up to grab it out of the backseat.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Oh Taehyung! Good! Did you turn right like I said? You should have been here ten minutes ago!"

 

"Right? Ah...no, we turned left."

 

"Why?! I said right!"

 

"I know that now, but the call dr-" Taehyung giggled and looked down at his phone. "The called dropped again."

 

Namjoon laughed and slid down off the trunk. "I guess I should have asked this earlier, but do you know how to change a tire?"

 

Taehyung thought for a moment and shrugged. "Nope. But I guess we could try."

 

Namjoon shook his head and popped the trunk open to find the spare tire.

 

"Hyung," said Taehyung, leaning on the side of the car and looking back up at the sky. "I'm glad we took this road and not that other one."

 

"Why," muttered Namjoon, feeling around for the jack. He at least knew that should be included somewhere.

 

"Because, we wouldn't have had this time together. We haven't been able to hang out much anymore. But also because we would have missed out on all this if we had gotten back to camp before dark." Taehyung waved his hand across the sky and simply smiled, his hand dropping to his side.

 

Namjoon grinned and nodded to himself. "You're right. It was definitely a sight worth seeing. Ah! I found it!" He removed the small jack and tugged on the spare tire at the back of the trunk.

 

Taehyung let his eyes linger on the stars above for another moment before standing up and walking back to where Namjoon was laying the wheel down beside the car. He had the lug nut tool and was attempting to remove the hubcap, only to have it fall off into his hands.

 

"I swear," groaned Namjoon.

 

Taehyung walked up with a giggle and gently took the tool from his leader and friend. "Hyung, let me do this. I may not know exactly what I'm doing, but at least I won't des-"

 

"Don't even finish that sentence," ground out Namjoon, standing back with folded arms. He watched Taehyung work and smiled to himself. This had started out as a bad experience but once they had calmed down and taken a deep breath, they had a moment no one else would be able to share with them, and for that, he was grateful.

 

_* * *_

_Not even putting a word count because...well..._

_I swear I'll follow the rules tomorrow.  I swear._

_Also, this is bad._


	6. Day Six - Aftermath

_In fairness to you, I must tell you this will be a triggering topic for some of you. Read with caution and if at any point you feel uncomfortable, please exit this chapter and move on. I did not have anyone in mind when I wrote this.  I merely started typing and this was what came out.  Perhaps my own thoughts and experiences are shown through this, but I assure you, it is not specific to anyone or any event. <3_

 

He didn't see it coming.

 

No one did.

 

No one saw the signs.

 

The lack of contact.

 

The lack of emotions.

 

The lack of...everything.

 

By the time anyone could look back and realize something was wrong, it was too late.

 

Too late for him.

 

Too late for anyone to turn back the hands of time and right the many wrongs that had occurred.

 

No one knew.

 

Not his family.

 

Not his friends.

 

No one.

 

And no one cared to know.

 

No one bothered to see how he was the first time he missed work.

 

"Probably hungover," said one coworker.

 

But anyone who knew him even the slightest, knew he never drank.

 

Never did drugs.

 

Always home in time to watch the eleven o'clock news.

 

A nice apartment on the right side of town was home.

 

Decent car.

 

Decent wages at a good job.

 

He had it all going for him.

 

But something brewing inside of him was dark.

 

Unrelenting.

 

Painful.

 

Almost crippling.

 

His SNS posts were cheerful, unbelievably positive.

 

Always a smile for every selfie.

 

Never a glimpse at the true him that was just bubbling under the surface.

 

The part he kept hidden to everyone.

 

Even the one person he considered his best friend.

 

Since they had been born, the two were inseparable.

 

Always reaching milestones together till they got old enough to understand competition, then everything was a move to outdo the other in achievements.

 

Same schools, even throughout college.

 

Best friends, throughout weekend trips, midweek dinners, and holiday gatherings.

 

There wasn't one thing they kept from each other.

 

Except that one thing that was invisible, except to those trained to see it.

 

Even then, it was well hidden.

 

His friend was a victim.

 

A victim of his own dark thoughts.

 

A victim of a society that pushed for perfection and and never made room for failure.

 

A victim of a world that was cruel to those who didn't quite measure up.

 

Cruel to those who didn't fit a certain mold.

 

His friend... _his_ _friend_...

 

Why didn't he say he was feeling these things?

 

Why didn't he say he was burdened by his own minor failures?

 

Why didn't he just let the words and stamps of rejection roll off his back?

 

Why didn't he come to the one person who loved him like a brother and ask for help?

 

Why did he laugh like all was right with the world?

 

Why did he pretend nothing inside was wrong?

 

Why did he joke or use his wit to deflect the conversations away from personal thoughts and feelings?

 

Why didn't he just...

 

 _Tough_ _it_ _out_.

 

Why did he suffer alone?

 

Why did he make up excuses and push people away?

 

Why did he...

 

Leave?

 

Why did he take the easy way out?

 

Why?

 

Didn't he know his absence would effect people?

 

Didn't he know he mattered?

 

Didn't he know there were people who tried to care but were just kept at arm's length for so long they gave up?

 

Didn't he know that life without him would be joyless and empty?

 

Didn't he know?

 

_Did I tell him?_

Did anyone tell him?

 

Did anyone point out his successes, his strong points, his talents?

 

Did anyone mention how he looked nice that day?

 

Did someone compliment his suit?

 

Did anyone bother to ask his thoughts?

 

His opinions?

 

About how he felt?

 

 _No_.

 

Now, instead of celebrating another year of life, his coworkers, family, his best friend...

 

They were all mourning their loss.

 

The empty desk.

 

The empty spot at the table during holidays.

 

The empty spot on the sofa during the next big game.

 

The sudden absence of text messages, voicemails, emails, comments on social posts.

 

The lack of...him.

 

The lack of his presence.

 

The difference it made to those around him.

 

The difference it truly made.

 

If only he had seen...

 

If only he had known...

 

Known he was special.

 

Known he was valued.

 

Known he was loved.

 

If only someone had told him, shown him, made it clear.

 

If only the world around him hadn't been so caught up in itself.

 

If it had paused to notice...

 

Stopped to care...

 

Perhaps his smile would still be present.

 

Perhaps his desk not empty.

 

His seat not empty.

 

His mother's arms not aching to hold him once more.

 

If only the result of his desperate need to escape his own horrors...

 

Hadn't led to this.

 

His death.

 

The unexpected final stroke on an incomplete canvas...

 

An ellipses before the end of an unfinished novel...

 

_I should have cared._

_I should have prodded._

_Noticed._

_Loved._

_Cared._

_Stopped him._

_Perhaps things would have been different._

_Or perhaps not..._

_I could have reached out._

But would he have responded?

 

_I could have said I loved him._

But would he have listened?

 

Could he have heard over the screaming voices in his head?

 

_I should have put myself into his life more._

But would he have liked that?

 

Would he have been annoyed and shut people out more?

 

His choices were...his choices.

 

Nagging from anyone to find help would only have isolated more and insulted.

 

Loving through the pain, the hurt, the tears...

 

Allowing him to be what he was or wanted to be...

 

Not judging...

 

Not scolding...

 

Just...

 

 _Loving_.

 

Embracing.

 

Loving the intricacies of his personality.

 

The idiosyncrasies of his life.

 

Just...

 

 _Loving_.

 

Maybe sometimes a tough love...

 

Maybe sometimes an accepting love.

 

But just...

 

 _Loving_.

 

Not pressuring.

 

Not ignoring the things he showed but could never speak.

 

The aftermath of the finale resolution of one's battle with a voice inside that tells them they're worthless...

 

Ugly...

 

Unfit...

 

Too different...

 

Too quiet...

 

Too loud...

 

Too everything negative...

 

The aftermath is something that person never sees.

 

It is only experienced by those who are left behind.

 

Left to pick up the pieces.

 

Left to come to terms with their own failures.

 

Left to figure out the why's and if's...

 

Left to regret...

 

To second-guess...

 

To cope.

 

* * *

_995 words._

_AN: I'm not sure how to end this one. If I can encourage anyone who is feeling alone, depressed, anxious, suicidal, it is to please get help.  Don't think you're alone. You're not. You mean something to someone.  Find that someone, hold onto them with all you can, and let yourself be vulnerable, loved, and cared for. Let yourself just be. Don't keep trying to be someone you're not. Be you. You are wonderful. You are special. You are valued. And you are very much loved._


	7. Prompt 7 - Very Loud

Taehyung lay in his bed, growling all sorts of complaints into the pillow he had pressed to the top of his face. He kicked his feet and screamed once more into his pillow before ripping it off his face and bolting upright in his bed. 

 

He threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stomping his feet as hard as he could into the floor, hoping to stop the loud music pounding through into his apartment. He knew his efforts were futile as the resident below probably could not hear over the heavy bass, but he tried anyway.

 

When the music continued, Taehyung slid on his bathrobe over his pajama and hightailed it down the fire escape stairwell. Flinging the door open to the fourth floor hallway, he stalked across the floor until he found the apartment where the offensive noise was coming from.

 

He pounded his fists onto the door, growing angrier by the second. He shoved his finger into the dimly lit doorbell, he beat his fists, he shouted into the door and yet he received no response. With one last raging kick on the scruffy green door, he started to stalk away.

 

He froze when he heard the music stop and the door to the apartment open. Spinning on his heels, Taehyung stalked back over and was greeted by a man slightly younger looking than himself.

 

"Did you knock?"

 

Taehyung fumed.

 

"Did I- Maybe if you turned down your freaking music you could hear me knocking! I woudlnt even have to knock if you turned it down!" His face was red and his hands were waving wildly. He knew he was a sight to behold but he didn't care. This kid looked at him like he hadn't a care in the world and could care even less about Taehyung's fit of rage.

 

"Ah, was the music too loud?"  The young man shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

 

"Too loud?! Listen kid, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't too loud!"

 

"Look, I sorry. It's just... I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Promise." The young man sighed and bowed slightly, turning to head back into his apartment. The door shut quickly and Taehyung stood there dumbfounded.

 

With no one else to throw his anger towards, he shuffled back to the stairs and went to his apartment on the next floor up.

 

Finally getting back into his bed, he slid into the covers with a heavy sigh. The last resident in the apartment below him had been an elderly gentleman, very quiet, only a bit noisy when his grandchildren came to visit once every few months. But since he had passed a month ago and a new resident had come, Taehyung had been stressed more times than he cared to acknowledge.

 

He took a deep breath and tried to close his eyes and ignore the dejected face of the young man downstairs that kept popping into his head. Maybe he had overreacted. But this had happened several times and he had just let it pass until tonight. He couldn't take it anymore. Not after the day he'd had.

 

No. The kid deserved it. He was rude. Plain and simple.

 

Taehyung pulled his covers up under his chin and did his best to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

Jungkook shut his front door and leaned against it.  He hadn't been careful. He had gotten too carried away and turned his stereo up too loud. Puffing his cheeks out with a sigh, he walked back into his apartment and sat down on the couch.

 

Eyeing the coffee table, he sneered at the small objects laying there, haphazardly thrown there in a moment of bitterness and anger. He propped his foot up on the table and nudged the small objects with his socked toes.

 

He had to do better. If he was going to prove he could live on his own, he had to do better, be more careful. It wouldn't do for him to get kicked out of another apartment because he was careless.

 

Jerking off his black hoodie, he tossed it on the arm of the faded blue couch and trudged off to his bed, falling onto his back across the mattress. The old box springs squeaked loudly, but he didn't seem to hear it.

 

Staring up at the ceiling, he sent a silent apology to the man upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Taehyung arrived home after another long day at work. He was tired of people. Tired of having to be nice and have a smile on his face all the time. He was tired of the laziness fo his fellow employees resulting in longer hours for him.

 

Not that he had anything to come home to anyway. Just an empty apartment, kept neat and tidy. Nothing out of place that would imply a bachelor lived there. Taehyung's favorite motto was a place for everything and everything in its place.

 

Even his attire was neat and tidy. It was part of the reason he had been hired as the front desk clerk at the ritzy hotel downtown. His manager said he had the perfect personality and a handsome face. It was a perfect combination, or so she said.

 

But despite his friendly smile and calm voice, Taehyung was too uptight at all times. He didn't quite know how to relax and let go.  Everything that happened at work was bottled up and shoved far away in his mind. He simply put on his best face and pushed forward.

 

Turning the lights on around the apartment, Taehyung suddenly felt bored. Nothing needed to be cleaned. It was a boring Tuesday night, so no good shows on TV, and he had already grabbed something to eat on his way home.

 

He changed into his pajamas and walked over to his window that overlooked the busy street below. So many peoples passed this building every day and he sometimes liked to imagine where they were going and what their lives were like.

 

He peered through the dusky light of sunset and saw a familiar face across the street. He stared through narrowed eyes as his downstairs neighbor shuffled out into the street, following the recommendation of the walk sign that was lit. His head was lowered and he walked steadily along, when a sports car came zooming through the red light.

 

Horns blared and people screamed as the car swerved at the last minute, running into a electrical pole instead of the pedestrian in its path. The young man's head bolted upwards and he looked around him in confusion.

 

People rushed towards him asking if he was alright, pulling out phones to call the police. The young man merely nodded and shrugged out of their hands, rushing to the door to the apartment building.

 

Taehyung had watched the scene in muted horror, frozen in place as the events unfolded. That kid had come close to death!

 

He suddenly felt horrible about his outrage yesterday and again slipped his bathrobe on over his pajamas. Hurrying down the stairwell to the floor below him, he got to the apartment right as the young man was fumbling with his passcode to the apartment.

 

Taehyung saw his hands trembling, his eyes blinking furiously as he pressed buttons randomly, growling in frustration when it wasn't correct. Clenching his fists he leaned his head against the door in an attempt to calm himself.

 

Taehyung slowly approached him, his hand slightly outstretched in a show of peace. "You almost got killed out there," he said, trying not to speak loudly, but the young man didn't even respond.

 

"Are you alright?" Taehyung tried again, inching even closer to the fuming young man.

 

Again, he received no response. Taehyung pushed on, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tentatively pecked at the man's shoulder, jumping back when the man spun around.

 

* * *

 

Jungkook startled at the touch and spun around, his hands poised in front of him for an attack. He softened his stance when he saw it was the angry neighbor from upstairs. "Ah, sorry. I didn't see you coming."

 

The angry neighbor's face looked puzzled and Jungkook wasn't sure if he had said something confusing.

 

"I spoke to you several times," said the man. "Why didn't you respond?"

 

"You did?" Jungkook's eyes bugged a bit and his heart resumed its panicked pace. "Ah, I just had a near death experience. My ears must be... I'm Jungkook, by the way," he mumbled, sticking his hand out to the angry neighbor.

 

He was surprised to see the man reach his own hand out and shake his firmly, a relaxed look replacing the puzzled one on his face.

 

"Taehyung. I live above you." Taehyung pointed up and smiled awkwardly.

 

Jungkook's lips formed a small o and he nodded. "Was there something I could help you with?"

 

Taehyung looked around and shoved his hands into his robe pockets. "No, I just saw what happened outside and I wondered if you were okay," he said sheepishly.

 

Jungkook smiled and nodded. "I'm fine. Thanks. Do you want to come in?"

 

Taehyung looked around and shrugged. "Sure."

 

Jungkook turned back to his door and realized he had attempted his key code too many times. It was locked for a while. "Ah, this is embarrassing," he said, turning back to face his new acquaintance. "But, I guess I tried to unlock my door too many times..."

 

Taehyung chuckled and nodded. "C'mon upstairs. You can hang out with me for a while till the super comes up to reset it."

 

"He has to come reset it?!" Jungkook's shoulders slumped. He had failed as an adult.

 

"Yeah? It's okay. It happens all the time. Mostly on the weekends though when people get majorly soused. No worries. He's an easy going guy." Taehyung lead the way to the stairs, his back to Jungkook as he spoke.

 

Jungkook panicked. Hopefully Taehyung wasn't saying anything important.

 

* * *

 

The two men walked into Taehyung's apartment and Jungkook was in awe of how clean and neat it was.

 

"Make yourself at home." Taehyung walked to the kitchen and retrieved two bottles of water from his fridge. He handed one to Jungkook and then seated himself on the brown leather couch.

 

Jungkook sat down nervously, the leather cool even through his jeans.  He fidgeted with the cold water bottle in his hands, his gaze roaming the room.

 

"So, I owe you an apology," mumbled Taehyung, eyes in his own water bottle. He felt horrible for yelling at his young neighbor, especially now that the kid had almost died before he could apologize.

 

Jungkook took a sip of his water and leaned back against the couch. "So..."

 

"So? I just said I owe you an apology." Taehyung stared incredulously. The kid was really ignoring him?

 

"Do you game?" Jungkook looked at him with a small smile on his face.

 

"Game? Do I game?! Didn't you just hear what I said?"

 

"You said something? Ah..."

 

"Look, kid, I'm trying to be nice here. I'm trying to apologize for flying off the handle at you last night and the least you could do is respond to my attempt at an apology and not ask if I am a gamer! Which, by the way, I am not!" Taehyung sat back against the couch cushion and huffed.

 

Jungkook blushed and he sighed. He needed to do the adult thing. It would only make life more difficult if he kept covering things up. He turned his body and faced Taehyung, making sure he could see his face. "Ah, Taehyung, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."

 

"How could you not? I'm sitting right here!" Taehyung grumbled and shook his head.

 

"Taehyung, I didn't hear you because I can't hear you," sighed Jungkook softly.

 

Taehyung paused. "But how did you know what I said if you can't hear me?"

 

Jungkook shrugged and grinned, pointing to Taehyung's mouth. "I lip read."

 

"Are you...?" Taehyung suddenly felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. Had he really screamed at a disabled person?

 

"The word is deaf. And yes, well, not completely. I can hear low tones still." Jungkook felt nervous. His parents had told him to be strong, be confident, and never be ashamed of his hearing loss. But that didn't make it any easier when he had to tell someone new, which was hey he never did it unless absolutely necessary.

 

"Like...the bass of a song?" Lights suddenly went on in Taehyung's mind.

 

Jungkook chuckled and nodded. "Yeah. Last night, I'd had a bad day, and I turned on some music, because that's how I relax. I guess my hearing has gotten worse because I must have had it really cranked up for you to hear it up here. I like to feel the bass in my chest, that's... anyway. I'm sorry about that. Really."

 

Taehyung looked at Jungkook and shook his head. He had really put out a bad first impression on him. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. If I had known... well, I'd had a bad day as well and I guess I took it out on you."

 

"You didn't know. I should have been more considerate. Also, I guess I should start wearing the hearing aids my parents got me before I moved out." Jungkook grimaced and took another sip of his water.

 

"Hearing aids help you?"

 

"Yeah. My parents went all in and got me some really high-tech ones. But I'm only twenty-two. It's not really cool to see a guy my ages walking around with hearing aids, you know?"

 

"That's silly. If you need them you should wear them! You almost got killed tonight. And that could have been prevented if you had just worn your hearing aids!" Taehyung felt his anger building and he had to take a deep breath.

 

"You sound like my parents," grumbled Jungkook. "I'm an adult. I can take care for myself."

 

Taehyung turned his face downwards on purpose. "Obviously not," he mumbled slyly.

 

"Hey! That's not fair! I know you're saying something but I can't... I mean, I can sort of hear you because your voice is really deep, but you can't take advantage of a deaf guy like this." A teasing glimmer shone in Jungkook's eyes and Taehyung couldn't help but giggle.

 

"Alright. Alright! You're right. But seriously, wear your hearing aids." Taehyung tried to look stern, but Jungkook's nose scrunch of protest just made him giggle.

 

"Fine. I'll try. They fit into my ear anyway. You can hardly see them. I'm just too self-conscious about them." Jungkook screwed the cap back onto his water bottle and flipped it, landing it upright onto the table.

 

Taehyung gaped and attempted the same with his own bottle, but his attempts were unsuccessful. He groaned and sighed in frustration as he tried again and again to get his bottle to land upright.

 

Perhaps it was the stress of the event that almost ended his life or at the very least, maimed him, or maybe it was knowing he was making a new friend, without anyone else's help. Or perhaps it was knowing this person accepted him with his disability, when he had been so afraid no one ever would. Whatever it was, Jungkook broke. Instead of crying, however, he laughed. And he laughed and laughed until tears came from his eyes.

 

Taehyung held the bottle in midair and looked at Jungkook gripping his sides and cackling loudly. his wheezing belly laughs were so loud and normally that would bother Taehyung immensely.

 

But tonight it did not. Instead, it gave him a sense of relief.

 

Relief that his neighbor and possible new friend hadn't died.  Relief that his neighbor was also not rude, just really hard of hearing.

 

"Yah," shouted Taehyung, reaching over and jabbing Jungkook in the arm. The young man slowly sat up, giggles still popping from his lips intermittently.

 

"Hm?" He stared at Taehyung's mouth, waiting for his next words.

 

"You are actually very loud for a deaf guy," smirked Taehyung.

 

"Hey!" Jungkook couldn't respond, because all he could do was laugh.

 

And that was how a beautiful friendship was born, through loud music and very loud laughter.

 

* * *

_2,711 words._


	8. Prompt 8 - Shoes

He hesitantly walked in, not knowing exactly what to do, seeing as this was his first day on the job. He watched as people milled around the large room, leaning over screens and consulting. Their murmurs hushed, their nods of agreement small. The lights were adjusted, and the photographer changed lenses on his camera, letting everyone know he would need five minutes.

 

Over by the wall, sat a young woman who caught his eye. She was sighing with relief as she slid the strap of her shoe off of her heel. With a wince, she slid the other off, placing the fragile looking stilettos carefully onto the chair beside her.

 

He stood awkwardly beside the side wall and frowned as he watched her massage her feet. She looked miserable and tired.

 

"Are you the intern?" A small woman pinched his sleeve and tugged. Her head was tilted back a bit as she looked through her glasses. He wondered why she didn't just push them up on her nose.

 

"Ah, yes? What should I be doing?"

 

"Take this over to that model over there." The woman shoved a shoebox into his hands and hurried away.

 

He glanced down at the box and back up at the woman. She had her legs stretched out in front of her, her toes wiggling. Walking over, he shyly approached her. "Excuse me, I was told to bring this to you."

 

He set the box down beside her, unsure of what to do nest.

 

The woman looked over at the box and her face contorted into a pained expression. "Not another stiletto," she whimpered. Taking the lid of the box off, she groaned as she saw a flashy pair of five inch heels staring back up at her.

 

"Why can't I be a sneaker model?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

The girl looked up at him and laughed softly. "I'm just grousing. Are you the new intern?"

 

He nodded. "My name is Jungkook. Are you the model?"

 

"You say that like it's something wonderful," she laughed. "I'm a shoe model. The only thing that matters to these people are everything below my knees."

 

Jungkook smiled and looked at the shoebox. "Those look uncomfortable."

 

"They are," she sighed, taking a shoe from the box. "But they're worth more than you and I will ever make in a month. I guess some people just choose status over comfort. But between you and me, I bet those people have blisters all the time." She laughed and glanced up at him slyly.

 

He couldn't help but nod in agreement and chuckle. He watched as she reluctantly held the shoe and looked down at her feet, already a bit red from the last shoes. "Here, let me."

 

He knelt down in front of her, taking the other shoe from the box. Lifting her foot, he put the weapon-like shoe onto her foot and cinched up the buckle. "May I?"

 

He held his hand out for the other shoe.

 

"Oh, now you're going to ask my permission? I'll have you know that these feet are under contract and insured. I can't have just everyone putting their hands on them."

 

He blushed and pulled his hands away. "Sorry," he mumbled.

 

Her laugh was soft and gentle. "I'm kidding. If something happened to me, they would just find someone else. That's why they keep shoving my feet into these torture traps."

 

She held out the other shoe to him and watched as he slipped it onto her foot.

 

Jungkook felt her eyes on him and he hesitated to look up at her face again. Instead he studied her feet, now encapsulated in the far too expensive shoes. "They do look beautiful on you," he muttered.

 

She laughed. "Thank you, Intern. They are pretty, but I can't imagine walking around in these for more than thirty seconds. Unfortunately, I get to spend the next twenty minutes in them."

 

The photographer called for the break to be over and the girl sighed and slapped her hands to her thighs. "Breaks over. Working girls gotta get cracking! Talk to you later, Intern."

 

He watched as she stood, took a deep breath, and then, like the professional she was, strode over to the set and did exactly as she was told.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Jungkook walked onto the set with a large bag holding a box inside of it. He looked around and saw the woman from the previous day walking towards a chair. He noticed that she limped a bit when she thought no one was looking. He frowned and walked over to her, bag held behind him in his clasped hands.

 

"Oh, hello, Intern!" She smiled brightly at him.

 

"Hello. More stilettos today?" He brought one hand around and gestured towards her feet.

 

"Yes, but it's the last of this shoot, or so they say."  She leaned down and began to remove the shoes, but her hands stopped when another pair of hands shooed her away.

 

"Let me," he said quietly, kneeling down in front of her.

 

"I don't think this is part of your job description, Intern," she said softly, watching him through grateful eyes.

 

He shook his head, his black hair moving softly. "I don't really have a job description. It's just whatever someone wants done."

 

He removed the ivory colored stiletto and placed it carefully onto the nearby chair and then began working on the other. He couldn't help but notice how red her feet were along the lines of where the shoe had come in contact with her skin. "Were those too small?"

 

Her eyebrows lifted and she shrugged. "Half a size, but that can make a world of difference with these shoes."

 

Her toes wriggled as they saw fresh air for the first time in the last hour.

 

Jungkook laid the other shoe next to its companion and looked back down to her feet. "I'm just...I hope you don't mind, but..."

 

Without waiting for a response, he reached down and took one of her feet into his hands, massaging it slowly and firmly, careful to avoid the red and tender areas.

 

The woman blinked, and leaned back against the wall. "Intern, I think you just found your permanent job," she sighed, closing her eyes as the tension was slowly massaged out of her feet.

 

"Just out of curiosity, what kind of shoes do you wear when you aren't modeling?" He looked up and smiled as he noticed her face relaxing more and more.

 

"House slippers and an old pair of sneakers that are just to comfortable to chuck," she sighed, a smile spreading across her face.

 

Jungkook grinned and laid her foot down, picking up the other. "I totally understand. I have a pair of shoes I wear a lot. They're comfy and look good with anything. Can't beat that."

 

Her foot flinched away and he froze, afraid he had hurt her.

 

"Sorry, you found my ticklish spot," she said, giggling softly. "Just...avoid that spot, if you don't mind," she said quietly.

 

He smiled and nodded, resuming his work on her foot.

 

She smiled and relaxed, enjoying the firm pressure on her foot, pushing away all the stress and pain. He had strong hands, and for a moment she found herself staring at them, noticing their manly appearance and the simple gentle look they had. She watched as his head ducked as he worked, slowly kneading away the painful spots in her arch and heel. She found herself not only mesmerized by his hands, but also the muscles in his forearms as he slowly rubbed the muscle aches away. Deciding this was not a line of thought she should go down at the moment, she looked for something to distract her.

 

"So, what's in the bag?" She peeked over at the top of the nondescript black box sitting in the equally nondescript black bag.

 

Jungkook looked over at the bag and then smiled at at her. "A little something I picked up on my way to work today."

 

She felt her cheeks redden a bit at his adorable smile. He was quite handsome. So handsome she almost felt awkward at the fact he was cradling her foot so gently.

 

"It's for you. Do you want to see?" His own cheeks blushed as he smiled up at her shyly.

 

"Me? Really?" Her eyes widened and she looked over at the bag with even more curiosity.

 

"You'll probably laugh," he muttered, pulling the bag to his side and tugging the box out. He opened the box and pulled out two wooly looking white slippers with extremely thick soles.

 

"What in the world..." she said with a confused expression. But all her questions disappeared as soon as he slipped the slippers onto her feet and pressed a button on the heel of the sole. Deep, reverberating rumbles of pure pleasure rolled across the bottoms of her feet.

 

He laughed a bit as her eyes closed and she sighed. "Good?"

 

"Intern, you've outdone yourself," she whispered. "These are marvelous. But really? For me?"

 

"I don't like seeing a lady in pain," he said, the flush on his face spreading all the way to his ears.

 

"You're too sweet," she smiled down at him, wiggling her toes in the warm slippers. The massaging rollers slowly rolling along the soles of her feet, taking away what little pressure Jungkook had missed.

 

"Ok, Soo, here's your next pair. You'll be happy to hear they're four inchers this time!" The strange tiny woman from the day before, laid the box next to the model and hurried away again.

 

"She is very odd," muttered Jungkook, resting his arms on his raised knees.

 

"Yes, she is. She relishes in the pain of others. As if I would be happy with a one inch difference."

 

"So your name is Soo?" Jungkook looked up at her, his dark eyelashes thick and alluring.

 

The woman swallowed and nodded. "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself yesterday."

 

"That's alright. Guess we better get the other shoes on?"

 

Soo pouted cutely and nodded. "Fun time is over, unfortunately."

 

Jungkook laughed quietly and removed the painful looking shoes from their box. "Let me help."

 

Soo watched him and smiled shyly. He was seriously cute and adorable, and also incredibly thoughtful. Glancing over at the slippers he brought for her, she felt warmth spread across her chest and face. No one had ever done something so sweet for her.

 

Jungkook placed the other shoe on and adjusted the straps. "You're all set."

 

He jumped to his feet and held his hand out, helping her to her own. He was amazed at the fact she was eye-level with him in those heels. The two searched each other's eyes for a moment, each blushing a fiery shade of red.

 

Soo tore her eyes away from his dark and beautiful ones, before turning and walking towards the set. She paused and looked back over her shoulder, pointing a finger to the wooly slippers. "Thank you for those," she smiled.

 

Jungkook ducked his head shyly and smiled.

 

"And one more thing, Intern," she said with a sassy tone, causing him to look up with a questioning expression. "Guard those slippers with your life and you better have those things fired up and ready to go as soon as I'm done with this shoot. This is my last pair for the day and I am in dire need of some foot therapy."

 

He grinned and nodded, his hair falling slightly down his forehead, giving him a slightly boyish look.

 

Soo smiled and turned away, lest she end up staring for a lot longer than she should, whispering to herself as she walked to the set. "Though I would very much prefer your hands, Intern."

 

_* * *_

_1960 words_


	9. Prompt 9 - Nothing

Why is it when nothing is all you want to think about, everything is all there is?

 

Lying on her sofa, staring at a blank television screen, all she wanted to do was think about absolutely nothing. What she didn't want to think about was how the person she thought she loved had decided she wasn't good enough. She wasn't active enough. Not someone who would make him look good in the circles he aspired to be in.

 

Unlike some women, she wasn't calloused and hard. She wasn't one to let words roll off her like water off a duck's back. Words stuck with her.

 

Sedentary? Plain? Too backwards? Too introverted?

 

She found herself curling up on the couch, laying on a soggy pillow, soaked with her tears. Her Mr. Right had turned out to be a Mr. Jerk. She scolded herself for even wasting her time mourning her "loss."

 

The phone laying on her coffee table buzzed. She sighed and ignored it, again. There was nothing to be said. Nothing to be discussed.

 

How ironic.

 

Closing her eyes, she focused once again on the backside of her eyelids. The rain outside helped to lull her into a calmer state.

 

A firm and obnoxious knock at her front door startled her out of her peaceful rest. Muttering a string of unpleasant phrases, she hauled herself up off her couch, cursing herself for actually living up to the "sedentary" accusation.

 

Peeked through the peephole and frowned as she saw a strange man holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand an umbrella in the other. He must have the wrong apartment. She sighed again for the umpteenth time that day and flung open the door.

 

"Look, you have the-"

 

"Hi!"

 

His bright smile startled her into silence and she stood there knowing that she probably looked like some slack-jawed idiot.

 

"You don't know me and I don't know you. However! Every week I pick a random residence and deliver a bouquet of flowers to it. I hope you can use a pick-me up! Also, if you're allergic, I'm extremely sorry."

 

The combination of the rapid rambling and the drippy bouquet begin shoved into her arms caused her to freeze. For the first time in about six months, she had nothing on her mind. It was...blank.

 

"I'm...sorry? You...give random strangers flowers?"

 

The man smiled and it was a very unique one.

 

 _Boxy_...

 

The thought interrupted the nothingness and she blinked herself back to reality.

 

"I do! I know, it's a bit weird," he said, smiling sheepishly, his empty hand shoving into his pocket. "But I really like making people smile. Anyway, I'll be on my way.  Have a nice day despite the rain!"

 

She paused as he turned to walk away from her door. "Wait!"

 

He turned and looked back. "Hm?"

 

Rainwater dropped off the back off his umbrella.

 

"Thank you," she said, a smile slowly etching across her face. "I know you didn't know, but I really needed this today."

 

"Really?! I'm so glad to hear that. I really felt like I needed to deliver that bouquet to this apartment all week. I know it's Tuesday, and you wouldn't know, but Friday is normally my delivery day. Today, however, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I had to deliver this today." His boyish smile and sparkling eyes made her grin in return.

 

It felt good to smile.

 

It had been too long.

 

"You really made my day. Shoot, I think you even made my week." Tears stung at her eyes. She blinked them away.

 

But he saw.

 

"You deserve them," he smiled, turning and sloshing away through the puddles.

 

Looking at the bouquet, she felt a renewed sense of hope for herself. Such a simple thing, flowers. Pretty, yet short-lived reminders that some things in life are still beautiful. Some things are worth smiling about, like a random guy showing up with said flowers.

 

She giggled, feeling her cheeks warming. She looked down the sidewalk and saw no one.

 

Nothing, except the rain and the dismal street.

 

Was he real?

 

Glancing down at the flowers, she read the wording on the wrapping.

 

_4 o'clock Florists - The Hour for Flowers_

After she closed the door, she looked at the clock on the wall in her kitchen.

 

4:04

 

Everything from earlier had been pushed from her mind. Nothing was there except the unexpected joys in life and the thoughtfulness of a random person who listened to the little voice in his heart telling him to do something nice for someone else.

 

She let her eyes skirt around her bland apartment filled with nothing that implied life or happiness.

 

It could use something.

 

Perhaps, it could even use some flowers.

 

* * *

 

_794 words._

_Y'all thought I forgot about this book, didn't you..._


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